by Ally Shields
“No. He wasn’t there, unless he stayed cloaked.”
“Possible, I suppose. But something seemed different about tonight. Why did they start shooting? There was no provocation, no threat. Nothing to gain by it.”
“Someone panicked or overstepped his authority?”
Kam shrugged. It still made no sense.
* * *
“So it’s come to a fight after all.” Brunic’s expression was grave. “They’ve switched from capturing to killing, and we’ve drawn first blood. So be it. Your swift arrows have proven we won’t be an easy target, but if you actually killed one of them, I’d say war is upon us.”
“One man was back on his feet, but…” Kam looked at Seth. “I’m not sure about the other. It looked pretty bad.”
“They may retaliate swiftly with larger forces,” Brunic warned. “Tell your workers and guards to be prepared.”
Despite his prediction, the guild remained quiet. Brunic finally left for Elvenrude to report on the situation. He promised to bring relief guards when he returned. Rhyden and Seth settled into a game of poker with several of the guild workers.
Kam went looking for Hayne and Rimee. The younger man had his arm wrapped in a bandage, but he greeted her with a grin. “Hey, Lieutenant.”
“Tell me this wasn’t all for nothing. Did you find the citerin dust?”
“Next best thing. The roots you need.” Rimee handed her a small burlap bag. “It took us a long time to find anyone who’d even heard of the stuff.”
“We ended up out by the swamps with an old voodoo priest,” Hayne added. “He’d not only heard of citerin, he knew how to make it. The roots have to be soaked in special oils then dried.” Hayne dug in his pocket and handed her a folded piece of paper. “We wrote it all down.”
Kam tucked the note in her pocket and hefted the bag. “Excellent job. I’ll get these to my godmother’s friend. She’ll know exactly what to do.”
She stopped at the card table to explain she was going to Elvenrude. “The guild can get a message to me if there are problems here. Otherwise, I’ll stay the night and maybe most of tomorrow. I hope to have the magic dust when I return.”
Seth rose and laid his cards on the table. “Count me out for this round.” He put an arm around Kam and walked her to the portal. “Rhyden and I can handle the guilds. If the Cyrilians show up, we’ll fire a couple shots. I think they’ll back off.” He flashed a smile. “Spend some time with Bria and your family. I know you’re eager to see them.”
She stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks. I know we should—” Her phone buzzed, and Kam frowned as she tapped the screen.
“We need to talk.”
Her mood plummeted the instant she heard Agent Crain’s sharp voice. The last thing she wanted to do was listen to more of his demands. “I told you I’d be busy for a while. You can’t keep calling me.”
“This is different. Where’s Seth? I want him in on this too.”
She mouthed the agent’s name to Seth.
“What’s he want now?” Seth looked like he might demand the phone but shrugged instead.
“Seth’s right here, but we aren’t private enough to say much. Hang on.” They moved toward an empty work area. She put the phone on speaker, turned the volume down, and held it between them. “OK. What’s the problem this time?”
“A drug dealer was shot and killed with an arrow. And the gangs are in an uproar.”
Seth swore softly, and she flashed him a warning look.
“How’s that involve us?” she asked.
“I haven’t forgotten the police tires that were shot out last winter. No bullets were found. In fact, you didn’t have a gun.”
“That’s pretty flimsy.”
“Maybe. But there’s that little crossbow tattoo on your hand. It got me to thinking—”
“You think too much,” Seth interrupted. “But I admit a bow isn’t an ordinary choice of weapon for your gangs.”
“Maybe it’s the shooter who isn’t ordinary.” Crain’s tone bordered on suspicion. “Is there something you should be telling me?”
“Are you suggesting we’re involved?” Kam asked.
“I was thinking more along the lines of other people like you. Such as the man captured outside your guild. I knew I’d regret allowing Seth to take him away.”
Kam gave Seth a helpless shrug. “Now what?” she mouthed.
“It wasn’t him,” Seth said, frowning at the phone. “We’ve had some trouble, but we’re taking care of it. The man you saw is still in custody. As far as I know he has no connection with any gangs.”
“That’s all you’re going to tell me?” Crain sounded indignant and more than a little irritated.
“Yes,” Kam and Seth answered together.
“Unless we learn something different,” Seth amended.
Crain swore. “You’re protecting someone again. Is that it? Is this the same group you let get away last winter?”
“We didn’t let anyone get away,” Kam protested. “And we weren’t protecting them from justice, only from you. They were dealt with. We told you that.”
“Yeah, yeah. But there’s a whole lot you didn’t say…and still aren’t.”
“Why don’t you just tell us what happened tonight?” Kam suggested. “Just in case.”
Crain gave an exasperated sigh. “It isn’t as if you won’t hear about it on the news. A night watchman at the Gormley Building was killed during a robbery of the office safe. Gormley’s gang already retaliated against his biggest competitor, and the two gangs are accusing one another of starting things. But I can’t imagine either side would use a bow. Can you?”
The conversation didn’t go anywhere after that. Crain tried to set up a meeting with Kam; she refused, and he hung up on a sour note. “If there’s more bloodshed and I get even a hint you’ve lied to me, I’ll reveal your existence in a heartbeat. Every detail I know. Keep that in mind.”
Kam cut the connection and raised her brows at Seth. “I think he meant it.”
“He’s trying to force our hand.” Seth’s expression hardened. “It’s blackmail.”
Kam grimaced. She hated to waste energy on Crain. “That’s true. But if it is the Cyrilians, we have to stop them anyway.” She sighed. “From everything Bria’s told us about Trystan, I didn’t think he’d sink this low.”
“Frankly, neither did I. He seemed more like a warrior. But drugs? Killing vulnerable humans? That’s the work of a rogue. I guess the big question is what’s he going to do next?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was late when Kam arrived in Elvenrude—too late to visit Murielle, and the Ryndel family had already gone to bed. Despite her best efforts to sneak in, Esty and Bria heard her and were eager for news. They sat on Kam’s bed and talked for the next hour. She related everything that had happened in New Orleans, except the contact with Crain and the murder of the human security guard. Esty and Bria didn’t need to know those details. But the story of the street fight with the Cyrilians would soon be known by most of Elvenrude’s aristocracy, via the king’s advisors, so she gave them an abbreviated version.
“We were lucky the human public didn’t witness the fight,” Kam admitted. “Seth and I were shooting crossbows just outside the French Quarter. It would have given the press a great story.”
“Why would Tryst do this?” Bria’s face scrunched with concern. “He’s always been so fair…and so reasonable.”
“I didn’t actually see him there,” Kam said. “He must have ordered someone else to lead the raid.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Bria looked thoughtful. “Are you sure it wasn’t Dreysel? He’s…well, different. I’ve heard talk he and his friends regularly visit New Orleans. I wouldn’t be surprised at anything he might do.”
“Wouldn’t he get in trouble if Trystan hadn’t sanctioned it?”
Bria frowned. “I suppose so. If Trystan found out. I don’t know if Dreysel would risk that or not.
Did you see him?”
“I’m not positive I’d recognize Dreysel. That day at the palace I was more focused on getting away.”
“He’s a couple inches shorter and heavier than Tryst, but I suppose that doesn’t help you much.”
“’Fraid not.” Kam cocked her head. “Why do they rely on their invisibility rings so much? Don’t they have other skills such as teleportation or levitation? And the arrows they shot at us were real. They didn’t dissolve upon impact like ours do.”
“You keep forgetting…most of our magic has failed. I’ve only heard about teleportation. A lot of abilities were gone before I was born.”
“So no one can teleport or levitate?”
Bria shook her head. “I’m surprised at all the cloaking you’ve described. I don’t know why Tryst would allow them to squander our remaining resources that way. I thought everything was reserved to maintain life and the portal.” Bria’s face flushed and her lashes moistened.
Kam changed the subject. “Brunic updated us on the activities at the palace. Now tell me something fun. What have you two been doing?”
“The three of us,” Esty corrected, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she glanced at Bria. “Caleb has been our constant companion. I think you’ve lost a lover.”
Bria turned to Kam with a shocked expression. “He’s your lover? Oh. I thought you and Seth were together.”
“We are. Caleb and I haven’t dated for nearly a year. It never was a real love match. He’s just a good friend.” She turned a reproving gaze on her sister. “Esty knows that. She’s teasing you. But he is quite a guy, isn’t he?”
Bria blushed and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “He’s been very nice.”
“And attentive,” Esty insisted.
“Esty, you shouldn’t embarrass our guest,” Kam chided.
“Phooey. She’s no guest. Mother said so. She’s going to stay with us. It’s like I have two sisters now to choose from, so you’d better be nice to me.”
Kam grinned at Bria. “Is it true? Did you say yes? I knew they were going to ask you.”
“At least for a while. I’m not ready to find a place of my own. Everything’s so new and different.”
“Marry someone like Caleb, and you’ll have a home of your own,” Esty suggested.
“I’ve only known him a couple of days.” Bria’s face reddened again.
Kam shook her head at her younger sister’s persistent teasing. Caleb’s interest must be quite noticeable. She studied Bria. Pretty, bright, spunky, yet very much a traditional elven woman. Yes, they would make a good pair. Caleb deserved someone special. And it would be the perfect answer to Bria’s future. Was he already thinking along those lines? She’d have to watch him. He’d always been pretty conventional. Could he push the boundaries far enough to love a Cyrilian woman?
“OK, you two, I have to get to sleep. There’s a lot to do tomorrow. Sweet fairy dreams.”
“May we come with you to see Murielle?” Esty was all seriousness now. “I’d love to meet her and…it’s time I knew about things. Don’t you want to go?” she asked Bria.
“I’d love to. Maybe there’s something I could tell her about the citerin dust.”
“Uh-huh. I can see what my future will be like—two against one,” Kam said laughing. “But you’re both right, and of course you can come.”
* * *
Seth was more worried by Crain’s call than he’d let on. After Kam departed for Elvenrude, he returned to the game table, but he couldn’t concentrate on the cards and soon dropped out. Since Guild Master Henre had positioned himself next to the side door with a bow across his lap, Seth retired to Henre’s office for another beer and to mull over in private what was bothering him.
Rhyden tracked him down a few minutes later. Seth looked up from his seat behind the desk. “Game over already?”
“I quit. I suspect they’ll go all night. Everyone’s too on edge to sleep. Cards are better than tossing and turning on a hard cot.” Rhyden dropped into a side chair and eyed him. “I know that look. Is something in particular bothering you?”
“What isn’t?” Seth told him about Crain’s call. “I’m confused by the Cyrilians. How does attacking the drug gangs fit in with restoring their homeland?” He narrowed his eyes. “And Crain’s driving me crazy. He keeps gathering little pieces of information about us. I had no idea he knew about the bows. It’s unsettling. And irritating. I’m tired of his threats and his references to ‘people like you.’”
Rhyden shrugged. “He works for a spy agency. Why are you surprised he’s snooping around? You might consider satisfying some of his curiosity.”
“Are you serious?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to control the information than have him jump to conclusions?”
“I’m not so sure. It’s risky either way.” Seth raked a hand through his hair, tumbling its loose black waves. “I wish we’d never gotten mixed up with him, but it’s too late to go back. Just what do you think we could safely share?”
“Tell him who we are. Humans like to label things. Since elves have a weird place in their folklore, I wouldn’t use that. But our ancestors were known as the darkkin when they emerged from the mountains. How about that?”
Seth sent him a quelling look. “He wants more than a name.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Rhyden’s mouth quirked in response. “It’s a place to start.”
They discussed other details that seemed safe territory. They might as well admit they carried crossbows—he’d guessed that already. And maybe admitting their world was in another dimension would set them up for a later discussion of the Cyrilians…if it became necessary.
“I might talk with him if the opportunity arises. But not if he keeps threatening to expose us. Frankly, I’m thinking our best action would be to avoid his calls.”
But that was wishful thinking. Crain knew the location of both guild houses. He wouldn’t accept them dropping out of sight. He’d come looking. Besides, right now cutting those connections was a moot question. Until Seth knew whether or not the Cyrilians were entangled in an ongoing CIA investigation, he needed to stay in contact with the agent.
Rhyden voiced the same thought. “Yeah, nice but impractical. Maybe we should take a look at this arrow. At least we’d know for sure.”
Seth gave a rueful laugh. “Bite the bullet so speak. Yeah, you’re right.” He took out his phone and tapped in the number.
Despite the late hour, Crain agreed to meet them within forty-five minutes. And he’d bring the arrow.
Seth disconnected. “Damn the man. He didn’t even sound surprised by my call.”
* * *
Agent Crain glanced around nervously, but most of the pedestrian traffic was closer to the French Quarter’s bars and shops. They appeared to have the area around the Jackson Square monument to themselves. He unwrapped a long, thin object from a white cloth. The shaft glinted in the streetlights when he pulled it free.
Rhyden drew in a quick breath. “Wow. Nice craftsmanship.”
Seth took the arrow from Crain and ran a finger along its length. Rhyden had understated its quality. It was superb.
“So what can you tell me about it?” the CIA agent asked impatiently. “The lab says it’s made from a live oak but they couldn’t determine the exact process.”
“The finish was achieved by hours of careful rubbing with a fine pumice stone and special oils,” Rhyden said. “Old method.”
Seth rolled the Cyrilian arrow in his hands. The shaft was as smooth as polished marble and the red feathers came from a phoenix. “It isn’t man-made,” he admitted reluctantly. “But it isn’t one of ours either. We use crossbows. This is a longbow arrow.”
Crain absorbed the information. “Then where’d it come from?”
Seth glanced at Rhyden and back to Crain. “I don’t know for sure, but we’ll try to find out.” He returned the arrow to the agent. “It’s possible this may tie into our troubles after all. I just don’t se
e how. Tell us about these local gangs.”
“I’ll e-mail you some background intel on the drug cartels and their terrorist ties, which is how the CIA got involved. Kam confirmed the New Orleans connection.”
“How?” Rhyden interrupted. “I haven’t heard any of the details.”
Crain explained Kam’s Mexican assignment, the counterfeit money, and finding money from the same printing in the hands of a local drug dealer. “Even before the murder, the gangs were taking small hits. Drive-by shootings at buildings, graffiti, and several burglaries. Of course, they haven’t told authorities what was taken, but we suspect a lot of money changed hands. Word on the street is someone’s attempting to run the existing gangs out of town.”
“They must have an idea who,” Rhyden said.
“They’re pointing fingers at each other. We’ve had two revenge shootings. The latest a couple of hours ago. Both victims barely survived, but it’s going to get worse.” Crain cleared his throat. “I appreciate you meeting with me. I got a little carried away earlier…threatening to expose you. That wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest. But I’m in an untenable position.”
“I realize that.” Seth hesitated, then sighed. “This arrow might belong to a group known as Cyrilians. We’re already making efforts to contain them.”
“Cyrilians? Are they also called Double C? That name was in the documents Kam found.”
“I have no idea. I can’t imagine why the Cyrilians would want your drugs, but we’ll find out if they do.”
Crain studied Seth’s face. “And you’ll tell me?”
“Yes.” Eventually.
The agent shook his head as if not completely convinced, but he pursued a different line of thought. “Why has no one seen them? Are they…invisible?” He stumbled over the last word, clearly uncomfortable suggesting it.
“When they want to be,” Rhyden said.
“It’s not their natural state, but they’re all capable of cloaking,” Seth added.
“So that’s what you call it, huh? How the hell do we stop someone we can’t see?”
